String Theory
"TITLE" is a NUMBER thread written on DATE. Summary Milae makes some notes in his home. Full Text Milae strode into his back room, pulling a flint and steel out of the pouch on his belt and striking it at the center of the room. The sparks caught on a tangle of branches, and suddenly flared with a crackle and a few oddly-colored flashes, illuminating the room with a start. It was circular, and a few hundred feet in diameter. There was little furnishing besides a few tables and cushions, as there were in the main room, but the most astonishing thing about the place was the vast number of looms set up along the walls. Well, something similar to a loom–they weren’t made for weaving. The colors of the yarn were countless; they changed in a smooth fade around the circumference of the room. Some sections were made from shimmering gold, some were bloodred, and a few were black as tar. The strings were not orderly, either–the main strings of the loom held firm, but they seemed like they had been unraveled, sections of it pulled loose from the main body of the yarn and tied back in, creating thousands of loops of all different sizes. Some strings were tied together; there were a spare few that crossed a large portion of the room, that Milae had to duck under as he strode towards a section that was threaded with russet and emerald green. He approached one of the looms, where a wide section of thirty or forty of these thick threads were practically identical in color; their only difference was the loops and ties and other such modifications that had been added to create a web that was impossible to follow with just the eye. The half-breed bent down and picked up a spool of the orange-and-green thread, unraveling a large section of it and placing it between his flat, oddly-shaped teeth, unsheathing a small dagger from his side and beginning to work on the thread, splitting off sections of it, marking a few loops on the loom, and then pulling another length of bright white from his belt and tying it to the main string, and he began to walk, the pale string unraveling and jiggling as he trotted back across the room, where the biggest loom was propped up against the wall. Here, the strings almost resembled ropes in their thickness–there were so many colors, so many connections, so many loops that it almost seemed from a distance that the loom was covered in colorful fur. The biggest thread was directly in the center, and it was to here that Milae threaded in the white string he currently held. He plucked it, testing the tension, and looked back at the string he had left behind, looking a bit melancholy. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. Striding to a nearby table, he dropped to his hocks and began scribbling furiously, notes that were too shorthand to understand, and then stood once more, looking around for a moment, before sighing and securing his belt and naginata holster tighter around him. He clenched his fists, the room lit with another light, bright and teal in color, and then he was gone. Category:Events Category:BOTGD 2 Category:Yun Milae